


Dreaming of a Reason

by ElleWhyInIn (Midgardians_Enchantment)



Category: Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Made Myself Cry, I wrote this forever ago, Proceed with caution, This one is gonna hurt, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:33:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midgardians_Enchantment/pseuds/ElleWhyInIn
Summary: Ranger is dreaming of a conversation that he had with his daughter after listening to Hoobastank's The Reason and everything that followed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I found this on my external harddrive - I don't remember it at all but it looks complete to me. I don't own these characters and even though I'm finding a lot of bits and pieces I'm not really writing in this fandom or under this name anymore. Let me know what you think?

Dreaming of a Reason

_“Speak when you are angry and you will make the greatest speech that you will ever regret.”_

          I’m dreaming. I know I’m dreaming because it’s still late summer in the dream and I’m driving through the heart of Miami, Florida in my Porch Turbo with my daughter Julie. I had wanted to ask Stephanie to come down with me for this visit, but I changed my mind at the last minute. I stopped at a red light and snuck a sideways glance at Julie.

          She’d been staring at me using the corner of her eye – like I’d taught her too – for the last several blocks. I knew she had something on her mind, but I was trying to be patient. She’d talk to me when she was ready. I hoped.

          The light changed and as I started to accelerate through the intersection, Julie suddenly lurched forward and cranked the volume on the radio. Not something that she normally did – we have an agreement - she can listen to whatever she wants to when we’re in the car, just so long as it’s at a respectable volume.

          “Dad, listen to this song. I mean really listen,” she said by way of explanation. It wasn’t a song that I recognized, or an artist and I was more interested in the “Dad” than I was in the song. Julie had spent most of her life being raised by a man I thought would make a better father than I. I tried to play it cool, so I wouldn’t make her feel self-conscious, but I really loved it when she called me Dad.

          Within a couple of blocks the song was over and she was practically dancing on the edge of her seat waiting for my opinion. “Well, what did you think? Is it you and Stephanie to a T or what?” she asked eyes sparkling. I honestly hadn’t listened very well to the song and so I was at a loss as to how to answer my daughter. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I thought quickly.

          “Well, Querida, what makes you say that?” I asked her, hoping that she’ll give me an answer that I can adapt to.

          “Well, it’s about a guy who decides he needs to change who he is and the reason is whoever he’s singing it too. It’s an awesome song with a wicked video.” I’ll admit that I have changed since Stephanie came into my life, but I didn’t really want to be discussing it with my little girl. Plus, Julie has just given me an out of this touchy feely conversation and I grabbed onto it while making a mental note to look up the song later.

          “Is this wicked video a good wicked or a bad wicked?” I ask her.

          “It’s super cool, so it’s a good wicked,” she told me. “It starts out with a guy and a girl connecting across the road and she steps out into traffic just as he looks away. Everyone gathers around her while she’s lying on the ground and the guy goes in and robs the jewelry place they were in front of. The paramedics show up and she gets up and gets on a motorcycle and rides away.” At this point I’m wondering what this has to do with me and Stephanie and as I come to another stop light, I glance over at her.

          “Stephanie and I have never robbed a jewelry store, Querida,” I felt compelled to tell her.

          “No, that’s not what I meant, Dad.” There it was again – Dad. “All throughout the song he’s singing that he’s found a reason to change the person he used to be and that reason is her. And you do use Stephanie for distractions and dangerous stuff; it’s almost the same thing.” I didn’t make the connection there, but I had to clarify something to Julie.

          I pulled into a shopping center parking lot and parked the car. I took a deep breath and turned to Julie. “Querida, you know that you are the very best thing that ever happened to me. I would have rather it didn’t happen the way it did and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that. If anything in the world is my reason for changing the person who I used to be, that would be you, Julie.” I wanted her to know that and that I loved her…I wasn’t expecting her to snort at me.

          “Dad, I understand what you are trying to say and I understand that you think that. But think about it. When did you come back into my life, full time? When did you start opening up to me emotionally? When did you stop taking so many dangerous risks that could take you away from me forever? It was after Stephanie came into your life. She’s your reason for changing. But I’m very glad she is.” Julie paused a moment and slid me a 200 watt grin. “And I think she’d make and awesome step-mom.”

          I knew I was dreaming because next I was alone in the car driving back to Trenton. I was thinking about was Julie had said and how much merit it had. I had found the Hoobastank CD later in my car stereo about halfway home and I listened to the song over and over until I reached Trenton. It gave me a lot to think about too. I drove to Stephanie’s apartment and checked the lot. Morelli’s truck was there so I didn’t stop, just went on to my apartment on Haywood. I checked in at the control room and went upstairs and was at my computer before even taking off my shoes. I had to see the video to the song that was now haunting me.

          The video made me think of all the dangerous situations that I put Stephanie in. The distractions. Asking her to spy on Orr and Ramos. Loving her. I remember going the next day and telling Vinnie no more dangerous skips. I would screen all her files – to protect her. I called her and told her Rangeman had searches piling up and she agreed to help out. I started working on her every day, trying to get her to open back up to me. To choose me over him, knowing that I’d hurt her before. I knew he’d hurt her before as well. Morelli was a good cop and he’d make someone a good husband. Just not Stephanie. Stephanie was mine.

          I knew I was dreaming because that Porch Turbo had met a spectacular demise a few weeks after the talk with Julie. Stephanie had been driving it when a semi-truck went left of center. She tried to swerve away but he clipped the back corner panel, knocking the rear of the car away from the collision point and causing the turbo to roll eight times. She walked away with a few scratches and a bruised elbow. I don’t know how she always did it – escaping cataclysmic accidents and still landing on her feet. It was like her luck would never run out.

          I got her to stay with me that night on the pretense that she needed to be watched for a concussion. I pulled out all the moves in my arsenal and I had her back in my bed with no little effort on my part. When she awoke she tried to make a fast get-a-way but I wrapped my arm around her and begged her to stay. I could see in her eyes she was expecting me to send her back to Morelli like I did last time I won her away. I could see that I had a lot more work cut out ahead of me then I had previously thought.

          Things were going pretty smoothly for a few weeks until Stephanie found out what I told Vinnie. She put two and two together and all the little things that I had been doing lately to try to keep her safe blew up in my face. She wanted her skips back. She wanted back in on the takedowns and distractions. She didn’t want me clipping her wings like Morelli had. She yelled, and screamed, and cried, and I caved. We had a takedown scheduled that night that would go a lot smoother with a distraction extraction.

          The distraction went to crap and I ended up yelling at her. It was the last thing I wanted to do – the last thing that I expected to do. It came out of nowhere and I could tell by the look in her eyes that I hurt her. Again. “You see? This is why I tried to cut you out of this shit. You always get hurt or something goes wrong and you have to be rescued! Don’t you understand that I am just trying to protect you? Jesus!” I remember yelling at her. And she never said a word back to me. She looked away from my eyes and I stomped away towards the skip leaving her standing by the car looking dejected.

          I was so focused on the skip wrestled to the ground under Tank that I nearly missed the “Death Glare” coming from each one of my men. I shouldn’t have said that to Stephanie in front of them. I shouldn’t I have said it at all. At this point in the dream that I’ve had ever since that night I do everything in my power to wake myself. I don’t want to see what comes next. Santos startled shout of, “Gun”, I don’t want to hear the volley of shots, and I don’t want to hear the final shot that killed the skips wing man. Somehow in the dream, that last shot becomes the one. When the gunfire stopped, I straightened and looked towards the car where I’d left Stephanie. She’s standing straight looking my way a slightly shocked look on her face her hands resting against her chest.

          She looked like an angel standing there in the too short black sequined dress and high heels, slightly pale and trembling. She never even ducked for cover. I start to stalk over to her as she looks down. I don’t want to see this again. Let me wake up! Dammit! She pulled her hands away from her chest and there’s blood on them. Suddenly I’m standing by her side as she’s falling in slow motion because it’s a dream and I have to see it again and again like this.

          I yelled for Brown, the company medic as I find a bullet wound to the left side of her chest and I can hear her air wheezing as her lung collapsed. I apply pressure to the wound and look her in the eyes. They’re tearing up and I can just barely make out the whispered, “So sorry”, before she’s pulled into unconsciousness. Everything else passes in a blur.

          I know that I am dreaming. I am dreaming a nightmare. Of the memories of two months ago to three days ago. From realizing that I love her and want her… to losing her. I bad as the memories hurt, I will take them. Because, three days ago, Stephanie Plum died.


End file.
